


Episode 54: In Transit

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [54]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clans, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "Are we there yet?" ~Cara, internallyThere really isn't much to do when waiting for the inevitable, but Aviila wants to make the most of it
Series: Clan Meso'a [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261364
Kudos: 1





	Episode 54: In Transit

**Author's Note:**

> For now on, when all the Meso'a Alor are in an episode (or at least the vast majority of them) they'll be tagged as "The Council" just so I don't have to keep writing all their names out :P This includes their attendants given that they go wherever their Alor go.

Jecho and Cara spent the first few hours of their trip sorting their things into the under-bunk storage and making guesses at how the Ordo would take their reappearance. Though Jecho skirted around the subject of her former crewmates, she listened to Cara go on and on about all the things she wanted to tell Beon specifically. Jecho was aware of his affinity for cooking, and Cara seemed convinced he could recreate malle’nuul with his eyes closed. It was only fitting that they discussed this while stowing their rations away in the ship’s small mess area. Cara cleaned off a few old mugs still in the ship’s sink while Jecho made sure the old packets of condiments left behind by previous occupants were still edible. Satisfied that nothing was moldy or otherwise tampered with, both were on their way back to the bunks when Aviila pinged the intercom.  
“Come up here with me, if you want,” she offered.  
Jecho walked over to the intercom on the wall and replied: “But aren’t we supposed to stay back here as part of the agreement?”  
According to Niri, after Cara’s panic attack meant she needed to be excused from the council room, the Alor came to the conclusion that if Jecho and Cara couldn’t see where they were then the Ordo wouldn’t be able to find Meso’kaan. Palouta wanted to put them under, Doaxa suggested blindfolds. Koucitesh, supported by both Dedel and Falkit, convinced the other that having them stay in the crew quarters with the cockpit door locked was not only sufficient but less psychologically and physiologically stressful. Palouta accused her of caring for the pair, to which Koucitesh replied:  
“Ta’yaak’un’nas a ra’yaak’un’ra!” [lit. “I have concern for them like you have concern yourself!”]  
Niri couldn’t say what Koucitesh’s reasons were as it was clear to no one why she’d taken to both Cara and Jecho. Aviila said she had a big heart, but Niri, even the cynic, argued the Alor just liked antagonizing Palouta.  
“Just, come here, okay?” said Aviila, unlocking the cockpit’s door.  
The two looked at one another, then did as she asked and made their way to her.  
The door panel slid back, revealing both Aviila and a sight Cara immediately recognized.  
“This is the debris field,” she said excitedly, pointing at a stray hunk of rock floating by, “the one we passed through when you brought me here!”  
“Mhm,” Aviila hummed.  
“But,” said Jecho, eyeing the long distance com tentatively, “Aren’t we not supposed to know where Meso’kaan is? Wasn’t that the point of allowing us to leave, that we can’t come back?”  
Aviila shrugged, “I just…,” she paused and sighed, “Don’t want this to be goodbye.. Not forever, at least.”  
“You don’t?” asked Cara, sliding down into the seat beside her.  
Aviila glanced over at her and smiled, “Yeah. Maybe… someday all this… nonsense will go away. Someday we’ll get to see the other Clans and,” she added, her smile growing wider, “If I don’t see you two on the first ship back, well…”  
“We’ll be there,” said Jecho, putting a hand on Aviila’s shoulder.  
“And we’ll bring Fent and Beon,” added Cara excitedly, “So you can meet them properly.”  
Aviila cackled, “Well they met my fists, and that’s as proper as we Meso’a get!”  
The three of them laughed, Cara somewhat nervously, then settled into their chairs. While Jecho began looking around, no doubt studying what star-marks she could, Cara studied Aviila. Her visor was up and casting her face in a slight shadow just enough to make it hard to read her expression. It didn’t help Cara’s guilt. She was happy, ecstatic even, to see Fent and Beon again, but what Aviila had just said made her heart hurt. Of course, she wanted to find her brother and maybe do whatever work he and Vaya were doing, but the thought of returning to Meso’kaan with them… would they even be allowed to see the Clan? Would they let Cara back in after she left them? Maybe if Palouta wasn’t an Alor. He seemed dead set on keeping the Clan away from the others, especially Ordo. Aviila’s hope seemed unfounded to Cara, who always saw the older warrior as cautious and untrusting of the other Clans. Had something changed? Then again, she thought, her cheeks burning, if I came back I could see Tavut again. She rubbed her cheeks and looked around at Jecho, but she was still staring out the window. Aviila was keeping an eye on a star-chart on her left and its blue glow provided some illumination to her face. She looked focussed more than anything, but Cara watched her nonetheless. Aviila wanted them to come back…

“[You would be Ordo without Aviila.]” 

“She’s been muted for too long,” Palouta muttered, pacing around the table.  
The late afternoon light was fading slowly; Yaun had just sent Xal’que and Hunap to light the council chamber’s torches and see about bringing food up from the kitchens. Dedel and Falkit retired to the fountain down the hall, or so they’d said. Koucitesh wondered if they left to discuss something privately, although what was anyone’s guess. The Mountain and Jungle Alor weren’t close friends, but they weren’t hostile either. Of the four, they seemed to be the most amicable towards one another. Doaxa and Teya had gone sight-seeing for the day, leaving behind Doaxa’s attendant, Nina, to keep an eye on the conversation until Bergundt, the Ka’briik’alor, returned from the East. Koucitesh had only arrived an hour prior, her shuttle being allowed to travel faster than regulation because she was an Alor.  
“I would greatly appreciate it if you’d stop that,” sighed Yaun, leaning back in his chair and staring off at nothing.  
“My apologies but you can’t tell me you aren’t on edge,” Palouta protested, gesturing back at the feed, “This is unprecedented! We haven’t had contact with the other clans in years, centuries even!”  
“That is why I need you to calm down.”  
“They won’t be in range for another week,” added Koucitesh, “It’s best if we keep calm and work on our contingencies.”  
“Agreed,” said Naxic’s projection. He was back home in the convent, seated on a bench-like chair carved to look like a Jiiya. “I’ll have two scribes there by midnight.”  
“M’axi?” asked Yaun, sitting up. [Who/whom?]  
“Midri a H’umm.” [Midri and H’umm].  
“Ra’kiik’in?” grumbled Palouta [Your sister?]  
Naxic’s eyes narrowed, “Le. Ra’tir’ra’na, ori’vod.” [Yes. You will not speak to her, friend.]  
Palouta bristled, “Ba’atuk’s injury was not my fault.”  
“No matter,” growled the Zabrak, cutting the air with his hand, “You will not hinder my sister and niece. Understood?”  
“I never would-”  
“Understood?”  
“You don’t command me!”  
“But I do,” interjected Yaun, pushing himself to his feet. “And though I do not you, Naxic, I ask that you both refrain from fighting. We accept both Midri and H’umm gladly. You have our thanks,” he closed the connection between the council and Naxic, then turned to Koucitesh, “Soah, kiik’in?” [A word, sister?]  
She nodded and stood, glancing at Palouta who was still glaring at the spot where Naxic had been projected. 

“In the face of a powerful family like Dedel’s, do you blame him?” Koucitesh was saying as they rounded another corner.  
Yaun shrugged his weary shoulders, dislodging his prosthetic tendril from where it had been atop his pauldon. It slid down across the front of his breastplate and caught on his Alor’s medallion. He untangled it from the ties and pushed it back behind his pauldron where his lower tendrils could hold it in place. Koucitesh watched him, the sound of the missing appendage being ripped from its place still haunting her.  
“You should be alor,” he said finally, clasping his hands behind his back.  
“Dedel should.”  
“Why?”  
She shrugged, “He had more of a reason to challenge Garuntha.”  
He shook his head, “He had no more than we did.”  
“She is the reason we now barter for our safety with the Ordo,” Koucitesh reminded him, “I’m for meeting the Clans again, I am,” she added when he chuckled, “But it must be on our terms.” She stamped her right fist into her left palm.  
“I agree with you, but what we want isn’t always what our people need.”  
“I know,” she sighed.  
They reached the end of the hallway where it dumped out onto the fountain room. Dedel and Falkit were talking with two figures too short to be seen over the rows of flowers and ferns. Over the gaggle of the fountain, they heard two distinctly higher pitched voices. Yaun chuckled and crossed his arms.  
“They must have arrived already,” he said, “Look.”  
A red woolen cap peered out from behind Falkit and a ruddy tan face stared back at them. Upon seeing them, the grey eyes lit up and she waved. Koucitesh waved back then raised her chin to another face that peered around him.  
“Koucitesh,” said H’umm warmly, leaving her father’s side and striding across the room.  
“Jate tuur, H’umm,” replied Koucitesh, grasping her forearm.  
H’umm’s face was paler than her siblings owing to her position as a records keeper for the Chibala. She spent the majority of her time down in the archives pouring over stone tablets and datapads, meaning she saw little sunlight.  
“How is Zixi?” asked Yaun.  
H’umm blinked at him, “You speak in Basic?”  
“When there are others around, yes,” he said, nodding towards a few warriors milling around in the medbay, “And I thought that matter was sensitive?”  
She looked at him somewhat suspiciously before replying, “She is well. She sends her words to you, Xoto. You protected her that day. She has not forgotten.”  
“She was in harm's way.”  
“She was doing her duty.”  
He nodded, “Send her my words, if you would.”  
“I will.”  
He held out his arm to her and she took it as Midri bounded up to them.  
“Jate tuur, kex’ika,” said Koucitesh as the Chibala stopped before them and raised her chin.  
“Suh cooey ghar, Koucitesh,” she smiled, crossing her arms behind her back.  
“You’re teaching her Mando’a?” asked Xoto, a wry smile crossing his lips.  
H’umm tutted, “Ba’buir has been tutoring her.”  
“Don’t insult your mother,” chuckled Dedel. He and Falkit were now making their way across the room to them, the Zabrak looking less weary than he had been previously.  
H’umm made a slight face at him, but wiped it away quickly.  
“Shall we?” said Falkit, gesturing with his hand down the hall.  
He didn’t wait for a reply, but did make eye contact with Xoto before he passed.  
“No relation,” smiled Xoto when H’umm fixed him with a quizzical look.  
She shook her head, “The Jungle. Her people, much different.”  
“I will take that as a compliment.”  
“I doubt my daughter meant it as an insult,” Dedel interjected when H’umm opened her mouth to retort, “Besides, Falkit has been a wonderful ally during this past rainy season. Passing regulations about mountain travel and tree planting has never been easier.”  
That’s why you’ve been so close, Koucitesh thought, but what she said was: “That makes sense. If the mountain sloughs off, it crushes his villages.”  
Dedel nodded, “But more than that. I think he understands our...situation better than anyone.”  
“How so?” asked H’umm, glancing back over her shoulder at her father. She and Xotolicue had taken the lead behind Falkit.  
“His territory borders our Easternmost mountain,” explained Dedel, “And you of all people should be aware of its significance.”  
She thought for a moment, then turned back to face forward.  
“That’s what we were discussing,” he said under his breath.  
“I see,” said Xoto softly, “And what does he say?”  
Dedel shook his head, “Later. We have more pressing matters at hand.”  
“But you will tell us,” said Koucitesh, “Both of you.”  
“Yes,” he said, putting a reassuring hand on her arm, “But I fear for our ocean friend.”  
Koucitesh chuckled, “That’s what we’re calling him now?”  
“Better than Sh’ra’chi,” laughed Dedel [lit. water-speaker]  
“Be nice,” said Xoto, holding back his grin, “I happen to value Palouta’s paranoia.”  
“Why’s that?” asked H’umm.  
“Because,” he explained as they rounded the last corner, “I trust someone who spends their time poking holes into every explanation he’s given. It means he’s always the first to spot a trap.”


End file.
